But the way he was leaning in to kiss her made her think of another kiss. Of their last kiss, a kiss Jacks had orchestrated for reasons she still didn’t understand. But what if this was why he’d wanted it? Evangeline didn’t want to think this proposal was Jacks’s doing. He couldn’t have known one kiss would do this—and she didn’t understand why he’d even want this engagement. It was much easier and more pleasant to imagine this wasn’t what Jacks wanted at all.
Weren’t Fates supposed to be jealous?
“Are you all right?” Apollo’s warm hand climbed her spine, rubbing softly as if coaxing her back from a bad dream. “You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”
Evangeline took a timorous breath.
She still didn’t see Jacks among the crowd, but it felt as if the entire kingdom were watching. The whole ballroom had gathered, surrounding them with looks that ranged from awe to envy.
“You’re overwhelmed.” Apollo’s fingers found her chin and tilted her face toward his. “I’m sorry, my heart. I wish I could have made this private for us. But there will be plenty of secluded moments for us in the future.” He dipped his head, preparing once more to lean in for his kiss.
Evangeline just needed to close her eyes and kiss him back. This was her chance at a happy ending. And when she pushed aside her doubts, Evangeline did feel happy. This was what she’d been hoping for, the entire reason that she’d come to the North. She’d wanted a love story like her parents’。 She’d wished for love at first, and a chance with the prince, and now it was hers.
She lifted her head toward his.
Apollo’s mouth met hers before she could close her eyes. Last night, he’d hesitated at first, but tonight, he took with the confidence of a prince who’d never been denied. His lips were soft, but the kiss was flowers falling off her gown and shocked sighs from the crowd as he picked her up and spun her around and kissed and kissed and kissed her. It was the sort of kiss fever dreams were made of, a blur of dizzying heat and touch, and this time Jacks didn’t end it. Evangeline didn’t feel his cold hand on her shoulder or hear his voice in her head, telling her she’d made a mistake. All she heard were Apollo’s murmurs promising her everything she could ever want was about to be hers.
20
After Evangeline’s father died, she would have dreams where both her parents were still alive. In her dreams, Evangeline would be in the curiosity shop, standing by the door, looking out the window and waiting for them to arrive. She’d see them coming down the street, walking hand in hand, and just as they would reach the door—right as she was about to hear their voices and feel their arms wrap her in a hug—Evangeline would wake. She’d always try desperately to fall back to sleep, to just have one more dreaming minute.
Those dreams had been the best part of her day. But now, waking up felt like dreaming. A little unreal and a little wonderful. Evangeline didn’t dare open her eyes at first. For so long, her hope had been as fragile as a soap bubble, and she was still afraid that hope might burst. She was nervous she might find herself all alone inside her cramped room in Valenda.
But Valenda was half a world away, and soon she would never be alone again.
When Evangeline opened her eyes, she was still in Valorfell in her treasure chest bed at the Mermaid and the Pearls, and she was engaged to a prince!
Evangeline couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face or the giggle that erupted from her chest.
“Oh, good! You’re finally awake.” Marisol popped her head through the door, bringing a rush of warmth from the fire in the neighboring room. She must have been up for some time. She was already dressed in a gown the color of peaches and cream, her light brown hair was neatly plaited, and she held two cups of steaming tea that filled Evangeline’s chilly suite with the scent of winterberries and white mint. Both girls had been so exhausted by the time they’d finally left the ball, they’d practically collapsed inside of their carriage and then slept the entire way back to the inn.
“You are an angel.” Evangeline sat up and gratefully accepted the hot cup of tea.
“I can’t believe you managed to sleep in with all that happened last night,” Marisol gushed, but her voice was unnaturally high, and her fingers wobbled as she held her tea.
Evangeline imagined that although her stepsister appeared excited, this couldn’t have been easy for Marisol—watching Evangeline find her happy ending while people still called her the Cursed Bride.